The Adventures of Godric Gryffindor
by fordanglia
Summary: A burning witch, a sea bird, an orphan with a hat and Avada Kedavra
1. A Memorable Feast

12th of July - 978 AD

It was a day to remember. This particular summers day was a beautiful, seemingly joyful occurrence. The sky was cloudless and blue like the ocean and the hot sun was smiling down at the people gathering in the village square below. They were all there; the Gryffinhofts, the Gryffingrogges, the Gryffinmoors and the Gryffindors. Today, the Gryffindors had organized a tremendous feast, with servings of every delicious meal in the country. Stuffed turkey, wild boar, rabbit gravy, stewed pigeon, raisin bread, slow cooked version and a number of other flavoury foods decorated the long tables. Pumpkin mead was pouring over and laughter was becoming louder by the minute.

A small boy, although big for his age, was standing alone on one of the tables. His face was beaming at the watching crowd. They were singing a song in honor of him, and the boy looked both excited and nervous.

When the song ended, a huge man with a big crimson beard stepped out of the crowd. In his hands, he held a black wizards hat. The hat appeared to be average of all sorts. Not too large, not too pointy and certainly not an eyecatcher. Furthermore, the man stepped towards his son on the table and crowned his son.

"Finally," the boy's father said, "you are a man."

Loud cheering erupted from the crowd in an instant and a massive amount of colorful wizards hats filled the air. Godric Gryffindor grinned from ear to ear as the group of people cheered his name. He couldn't believe it was actually his eleventh birthday. For over a month he had been anticipating this moment. Finally, as he stood on the table, he tried to enjoy it at much as possible.

His three younger brothers were standing on the tip of their toes, trying to get a good glimpse of him, while his mother was carrying his baby sister, Gwendolyn, on her arm. She waved encouragingly when he caught her eye. Beside her, his favorite uncle Merwyn, was clapping enthusiastically. Behind Merwyn, the Gryffinhoft and Gryffinmoor Chiefs were bumping their cups of mead together, toasting his health.

With one hand on his shoulder, Chief Grimmauld guided Godric off the table. "My son!" he bellowed, slightly intoxicated. "My firstborn child! My legacy!" His eyes were shining with pride as he studied his son. "You'll do great things, ma boy, you hear me? Great things, I am confident. It's in your blood."

Godric felt his cheeks flush. He wished his father wouldn't say such things. Godric didn't feel special. He was just like any other kid. In fact, Colbert Gryffngrogg was ran much faster than him and Daya Gryffinhoft was ten times better than him in levitation charms. Suddenly, Godric felt a lump forming in his throat. There was no way he was as great as his father claimed. He was sure to become a disappointment. Sometimes, when his father was on his bragging spree, Godric secretly wished he lived far away from his family and the village of Gryffin. There were just so many expectations.

"Father, please stop," Godric pleaded.

"Why on earth would I do that? You are my successor, the next chief of Gryffindor, and I'll be damned if I keep my mouth shut!"

"But I don't - " Godric was cut off by his uncle's drumming laughter.

"Take it easy, my dear brother, you don't want your boy get too confident. Wouldn't want him ending up arrogant like his father."

Grimmauld stared at Merwyn for a second before he too, chimed in with an equally drumming laugh, punching his brother playfully. Merwyn winked at Godric before he led Grimmauld away towards the mead table. Immediately after, his brothers ran towards him, interrupting each other and speaking rapidly.

"Godric! Show us the hat!"

"Can I see it? Oh please, let me see!"

"Wow, look at that! Can I try it?"

Godric chuckled at the sight of his younger brothers, Gordon, Galian and Gemson. They were all the splitting image of their father. All Gryffindor boys had flaming red hair, high cheekbones and a defined jaw. Godric's only distinguishable feature was his eyes, which no one knew from where he had gotten. They were the colour of bright green, although the rest of the inhabitants of Gryffin had either brown or grey eyes. Godric let his brothers try on his new hat, and chuckled when it fell over Gemson's eyes. He had just put it back on his head, when a loud bang erupted from the far end of the village square.

Suddenly, the earth below him began shaking. The tramping of hooves ringed the air and his whole world trembled. Then he saw it. A horde of horse riders were galloping towards the square, sending green flashes of light in every direction.

"They have broken through the shield!" called a voice Godric recognized as his father's.

After that, everything was a blur. Villagers were fleeing the riders, screaming so loud he thought we would go deaf. A nearby table blew up in the air, sending red sparks all over the square which further ignited the nearest houses. Red and yellow flames liked the walls of the houses and Godric heard faint screams coming from inside. Someone tugged on his arm, and Godric looked down to see the petrified face of his five year old brother Galian. Before he could register what was happening, a jet of bright green light hit Galian straight in the back. His expression froze. With a last exhale, his limp body fell to the ground at Godric's feet.

"Galian!" Godric shaked his brother's shoulders, trying to wake him. This had to be a nightmare. He had dreamt about his birthday for months. This was probably just another figment of his nerves for the hatting. He pinched himself, trying to leave his dream. He did not wake up. In fact, the screams were growing even louder. The strong smell of burned flesh caught his nose. In despair, Godric slapped his brother as hard as he could, trying to wake him, but Galian's stare remained empty.

"Get up, you dumb boy, he is dead." Godric shrieked and looked around to see who had spoken. Befuddled, he squinted his eyes, trying to see through the black cloud of smoke, but his vision was compromised. His lunges burned with every inhale, and Godric had to bend over and caught as hard as he could. At that moment, a man fell less than two feet away from him. Godric's eyes were so blurry, he realized he must be crying.

"You fool, listen to me and move!" Godric had no time to contemplate the foreign voice. Still, he did as he was told. With shaking legs, he started towards the woods.

"Duck!" yelled the voice. Godric ducked as a flash of green rushed past him, missing him only by an inch. He willed his legs to run faster, thinking that his lungs would burst. Suddenly, the earth rushed towards him and soaring pain stabbed his right knee. He had knocked his leg into something hard and tripped over a dead body. He looked behind him to see who it had been, and his insides instantly turned to ice.

The frightened face of his mother was lying motionless on the ground. At her sight, Godric let out a heartbreaking schriek of terror. This was the worst nightmare he had ever had. He wanted out. He wanted to go home. Home to his mother's calm embrace, because this was not right. At that time, he heard a baby's cry nearby. He frantically looked around and found his baby sister Gwendolyn, lying in her mother's arms. Her face was red and puffy.

The sight of his sister gave Godric new courage. He had to save her. As he had no idea where the rest of his family were, he was her only chance. Surprisingly, he felt a faint feeling of calmness in the surrounding chaos. They had to leave at once. In a heartbeat, he had leaned over and picked up his sister. As soon as he made to stand, a rush of blinding pain ran up his knee. When he looked down, he saw that the lower part of his leg was bent in an unnatural angle. He let out a gasp when the true pain of his injury hit him.

"Shh, it's alright, Gwen." However, Godric had no way of knowing whether they were going to be alright. He hugged his sister tightly, and layed down beside his mother. Closing his eyes, he prayed that their horrible surroundings would disappear. "Shh, don't cry. We'll be fine. This is not real. We'll be fine."

He continued to repeat his mantra over and over, rocking his sister. Over Gwendolyn's cries, his quivering voice was faint. "We'll be fine. This is not real. Shh, don't cry. We'll be fine." The air was thick with ash, and while coughing, Godric ripped off a part of his shirt, using it as a mask. After a while, the screaming slowly died out. Had he woken up? Godric opened his eyes. However, the scenery was even worse than before. A green mist had blended with the thick smoke, and he couldn't see more than a couple of feet in any direction. Even so, the ground was covered in lifeless villagers as far as he could see. Holding his breath, Godric scanned the bodies. He saw a couple of Gryffinmoors and Gryffingroggs. Surprisingly, the Gryffingrogg chief had a faint smile on his face and was still holding his cup of mead. Godric's heart dropped when he recognized his father's long crimson beard on a bloody corpse with a smashed nose and a wand sticking out of an eye. He quickly looked away, blinking away his tears.

There was a rushing of leaves, followed by the sound of someone kicking a corpse. Godric layed completely still, hoping against hope that Gwendolyn would remain silent. Then a man spoke.

"Hah, that was child's play."

"I expected as much," said another voice. "I even told my wife I'd be home before dark."

"Hah, I bet she'll be surprised when you actually keep your promise. How is Marion anyway? Still looking after them nargles?"

"Nah, these days she is obsessed with garden gnomes. Imported a dusin of them from the Byzantines, she did. I must say, they are - ."

"We are not done yet, lads. Go make sure we got them all." said another man.

Panic rises rapidly as Godric realized he had to get away as fast as he could.

"Keep it together, kid," said the mystery voice. Godric was now pretty sure it was coming from his head. However, it was gave excellent advice, and Godric took a deep breath beneath his face mask. He had to leave before they noticed he was still alive. Slowly, he started to crawl away. It was a slow affair, as he was moving with one arm around Gwendolyn and with one injured leg. Also, his path was regularly blocked by corpses, and he had to take detours around them. His survival was his sole focus. Everything else seemed far away, like in a parallel world.

"Hey, something is moving over there!" yelled one of the soldiers.

"Run!" It was the voice in his head. "Now!" Without a second thought, Godric rose to his feet, ignoring the pain in his leg. On the command of his inner voice, Godric dashed to the left. A jet of green rushed passed his ear. Clutching Gwendolyn, he stumbled forward, turning to his right. Then his left, evading more jets of light. He ducked, but lost his footing. He rolled over, making sure not to crush Gwendolyn. In an instant, he was back on his feet. The edge of the forest was drawing closer. For the first time, Godric felt a smudge of hope. He forced his legs to sprint faster and dodged yet another green jet. His heartbeat ringed in his years. He was racing death himself.

At last he reached the forest and he spurted through the trees. "Jump!" He jumped over roots. "Duck!" He ducked under large branches. Godric had no idea how far he ran or for how long, but after a while, the yells behind him died out and the forest grew dark. Still, Godric dared not slow down. With one foot in front of the other, he continued on. At last his feet gave away from under him and he stumbled to the ground.

For a while, he lay there, motionless, listening for the soldiers to reach him. His breathing was ragged and his leg was throbbing like never before. Even the smallest of sounds made him jump, but the riders never came. Eerie silence filled the woods. Suddenly, Godric's belly jolted in terror. He hadn't heard his sister cry for a long time. Slowly, almost without moving, Godric looked down towards his baby sister.

He wanted to scream, to release his pain from his chest. However, nothing came out. Instead of his sister, he was now holding a lifeless bundle of something that resembled an infant. His last words to her had been a lie. She was gone and he was never going to watch her grow up. He would never again hear his father's reprimands, or be subject for his little brothers' practical jokes. The full blow of what had happened suddenly hit him with full force and he felt his world spin. He had failed them. Tears flooded down his cheeks and he clutched his dead baby sister as tight as he could. It was indeed a day he would never forget.

"Forgive me," Godric whispered before he passed out.


	2. The Nameless Companion

19th of July - 978 AD

It had been a week since the gruesome events of July the 12th, a week of wandering hungry through the forest. On the first day, Godric had been fortunate to stumble upon a small pond at a clearing. It wasn't big, but gave the siblings a sense of protection. Tall trees were standing as sentinels at the edge, guarding the meadow. After that, Godric had not dared venture too far away, in fright that he would get lost and run out of water.

Gwendolyn had slept through most of the first two days, probably too tired from everything that had happened. Godric tried not to think about it, thus occupied his days trying to find something to eat. It was a surprisingly difficult task, as his leg seemed to be broken. Godric had used the summoning charm to gather the nearby berries, but his charm was weak and had not reached far. That however, didn't stop the young wizard, and he had found himself a nice branch, and used it as a cane whenever he had to move.

I didn't take him long to discover a small spot containing a variety of mushrooms, but his mother's voice had rung in his head. "Don't eat any mushrooms or berries you don't know!" Since Godric hadn't been paying much attention when lectured, he had decided to go hungry instead. The next day he had been lucky. He had found a crow with a broken wing. That night their hunger had been quelled, but soon after they were even hungrier than before.

After five days only eating strawberries, he began to worry for his sister's health. She was crying all the time, something that made it very hard for him to fall asleep. Also, Godric always kept an eye on the lookout, even though they were alone. He had no idea who the attackers had been, or why they had come for his village, but he feared they would find them. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see his father's mangled face, or his mother's empty stare. It didn't help on his sleep deprivation. With every passing day it was getting harder and harder to find the will to stand up.

He had no idea what to do next. There was nowhere to go. He had spent his whole life in Gryffith. Come to think of it, he had never actually left the hollow. "The world is a dangerous place, son," his father used to say every time he wanted to go exploring. "One day you'll understand." Godric understood now. He had to leave the pond. It was not place to raise a baby, especially not when there were riders around. There was also the matter of food, which was scarce at the moment.

Thus, on the seventh day, Godric decided to venture out into the unknown. The sun was plastered high on a cloudless sky and the heat made Godric sweat. He used his shirt to tie a sling around his neck and placed baby Gwen inside. For once she was quiet, and Godric appreciated the new silence, as the journey was going to be hard. His arm was hurt as well as his leg, from a fall he had suffered during his escape. Even though it was healing, it was in no shape to carry an infant for an extendible amount of time. He placed his wizards hat on his head and stepped into the woods.

Leaning on his cane with his good arm, Godric stumped forward. His walking was slow, but steady. Trees cast long shadows on the bare ground and made it difficult for Godric to see the twisting roots. Occasionally he spoke to Gwen. It helped with his feeling of loneliness. "Look at that crooked tree, Gwen, it looks just like grandpa Greg's nose!" or "Oh, that was close! Almost tripped there." He had to concentrate on every step and before he knew it, the sun was on its way down. His leg was once again throbbing hard and he had no other choice but to call it a day. As careful as he could, he lowered Gwen and himself down between two tree trunks. The trees made an arch overhead that formed a natural protection against potential rain. Godric was quite proud to have found such a place.

"Ah, a good day's march I would say." Godric almost screamed in surprise. He knew that voice. He had heard it before, on the day of the attack.

"Where are you?" Godric demanded, looking around in alarm and feeling very stupid asking the air. The voice only chuckled.

"Oh my dear boy, haven't you figured it out yet?"

Godric thought about this for a minute. The voice sounded like it was right beside him, but apart from his baby sister, Godric was quite sure he was alone. Gwen couldn't possibly have learned to speak overnight?

"You are thicker than a flobberworm," the voice said, "the baby can't speak."

Godric was taken aback by the comment. It seemed like the voice knew exactly what he was thinking. He must be really powerful, Godric mused, being able to use occlumency of that extent.

"Why are you following me?"

"Don't be daft, I am not following you."

"Then why are you here?

"I could ask you the same question," the voice answered, obviously amused at Godric's ignorance. Godric thought hard, leaning his head against the tree trunk. The voice said it wasn't following him. Still, he had heard it a week ago. Was he taking it with him?

"Now we are getting somewhere!" said the voice. Godric was now absolutely sure it could read his mind.

"Are you - er - my subconsciousness?"

"Hah! Thank Herpo I'm not!"

Godric scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Then who are you?"

"So many questions - I'm your hat, you dumb piece of mucus!" the voice exclaimed. Astonished, Godric lifted his new wizards hat off his head. It looked just like any other regular hat. It was round, pointy and of a dark, charcoal color. As Godric studied it, a fold suddenly moved and displayed the shape of a mouth.

"Not what you expected, eh?" said the hat, and Godric dropped it in surprise. "Hey! That's not very nice!" This was absurd, even for Godric who had grown up with magic.

"Pick me up!" The hat raised his voice. "I'm getting muddy all over!"

Quickly, Godric reached down and picked the hat up. It had already scolded him several times, and he had no desire to give it another reason.

...oOoO...

20th of July - 978 AD

The next morning, Godric woke to the hungry cries of his baby sister. The piercing sound made his heart heavy, as he had no idea how to help her. He picked some bark of a nearby tree and ate it together with some leaves he knew was edible. However, he had nothing for the baby.

Just after sunrise, Godric was once again wandering the summer woods of Southwestern England. The birds were singing happily from nearby branches, but Godric had a difficulty hearing them over the growling of his stomach. He wanted so much to eat the birds that their song became more of an irritating tease than anything else.

"Oh relax, boy, enjoy the song," said the hat. He had gotten much more talkative since last night. Godric just huffed in annoyance.

"Come on now, don't give me those sour thoughts."

"That's easy for you to say, you're a hat, you've never been hungry," said Godric as he clumsily climbed over a curved root.

"I wouldn't be so eager to draw conclusions, if I were you."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean many things, but it's not for me to discuss with ignorant younglings as yourself."

"Ugh, why do you even speak if you're not saying anything useful?" Godric felt his anger rise. Here he was, lost in the woods, with a hungry infant on his arm, a broken leg and a talking hat! Surely he must be losing his mind? The hat couldn't possibly talk for real. From the back of his head, he heard the hat snicker.

"Oh bottle up, you - Hat," Godric said, suddenly unsure of what to call his talking hat. "What is your name anyway?"

"I'm a hat, I don't have a name," said the hat.

Godric spent the next ours contemplating if he should name his hat or not. Hypothetically, what name would he give it? Somehow, the idea of calling the hat something common like Albert or Jack, didn't sound right. The sunlight gave the woods a warm green light as Godric, Gwen and the hat wandered through, which would have been beautiful if it hadn't reminded Godric of the green lights that killed his family.

At midday they stopped by a stream to hydrate and Godric splashed some water in his face. The small river applied a warm welcome to the monotone surroundings of the thick forest and the rushing of water gave away a calming sensation. Godric sat down for a minute to relax his leg and suddenly his heart jumped. There, on the other side of the stream, a small path was visible. Finally, he had a chance to find his way out. He had no idea how far the woods stretched, but, as the hat so kindly pointed out, his best option was to follow it. Together, the strange party crossed the small river and started down the pathway.

The path looked like it had been used recently, as there were no overgrowth and they noticed several broken branches along the way. That meant there were people nearby! As long as they didn't stumble upon some riders, they would be fine. After a while, a light breeze blew through the wood, rushing the leaves. With it, it also brought a faint smell of smoke, which tickled Godric's nose.

"Do you smell that?" Godric asked the hat.

"And which nose would you suggest I use?"

"How should I know? You seem to be able to see just fine without eyes."

"Such ignorance!" the hat said aghast.

"But - "

"Be quiet now. The fire isn't far."

It wasn't easy to get a hang around the hat. Godric had no idea even how it could speak, or have a personality at all. Nevertheless, Godric was grateful for the company. He had to admit that the hat often did give good advice, despite his rudeness.

Not many minutes passed before the party reached the edge of the woods. The wind blew much harder now that they were out in the open, he heard it like a running waterfall in his ears. They were standing on a high plateau, overlooking a small valley. Godric scowled when he had to use his his injured arm to keep the wind from taking his hat. Not far below, he could see a small village from where huge spirals of dark smoke rose into the air. Stumbling forward with his cane, he hid behind a nearby tree, trying to get a good view of the situation.

Down in the village, small cabins of wood closed around a big area which seemed to be filled with people. In the center, a huge pole had been raised. People were shouting, their fists punching the air. He saw that several of them were holding torches as well. They were all looking at something Godric couldn't see, which seemed to be hidden behind one of the townhouses.

"I've never seen so many angry people at once," Godric mused out loud.

"I have," grunted the hat, "and it never ends pretty."

Godric was about to ask when the hat had seen such things, when the crowd opened up. Two grown men emerged from behind a townhouse, dragging behind them a petite girl, bound at the wrists by a thick rope. The girl was fighting fiercely against her bondage, tugging and pulling, making the two men struggle. As soon as the fighting girl reached the stake, noise from the crowd grew even louder.

"Scum!" one of the townsmen said, spitting at the girl's feet.

"Burn in hell, witch!" said another one.

Godric was shocked. Absentmindedly, he hugged Gwen a little tighter. It seemed like these people really hated witches. Never, in his whole life, had Godric encountered magic hatred such as the one before him. From what his uncle Merwyn had taught him, muggles and wizards had used to live in peace.

"The world is changing, boy," said the hat, almost sadly.

"But why, why do they hate us?" Godric asked, completely perplexed.

"Oh, they don't hate you. Their hatred is for what you stand for." The girl struggled against the ropes, which had now secured her to the stake. She was yelling profanities at the townsfolk, cursing them to be haunted by her ghost for a lifetime.

Her er hair was flying wildly around her face, and Godric saw that several villagers were getting nervous, some even mumbling to their neighbors.

"Remember, young man, not every witch or wizards are of the kind sort, like your father. These people might have a reason for their loathing."

At that moment, a tall man, apparently the chief, stepped forward with a torch and ignited the straw at the bottom. The girl started screaming at once, her agony piercing through the air. How could the hat justify something like that? No one deserved getting burned in that gruesome way, least of all the girl. Godric wanted to help her, he couldn't bare standing by the sideline without doing anything. He was about dash into the village when the hat's voice ringed in his head.

"Don't be reckless, boy. You know you can't go anywhere with that leg."

"But I have to do something!" Godric said, slightly panicked. However, when he listened closely to her screaming, it sounded almost like she was laughing. Godric recommend she must have gone mental. Her face was illuminated by the flames dancing around her. She was not a pretty girl, Godric noted. Her nose was pointy and her eyes big and watery, something that gave her an eerie resemblance to a fox. Her cheekbones were high, and her laughter made them stand out even more.

"I think she is insane," Godric pointed out, watching how the girl was apparently enjoying her execution.

"Some people say talking to oneself is a sign of insanity, but what do I know," said an unfamiliar voice. Started, Godric clutched his wand and looked around frantically. Had they found him? Were they going to burn him and his sister too?

"Woa, easy, I come in peace." He noticed a young boy standing a couple of feet away from him, his hands in the air, showing two empty palms. He smiled at Godric. It looked like he was alone. Slowly, Godric lowered his wand.

"Who are you?" Godric demanded.

"My name is Hengist," said the boy with a grin. "And who are you?"

"Godric," replied Godric, nodding reluctantly. Hengist had long, dark hair to his shoulders, and a wide smile plastered on his face. He looked younger than Godric. He guessed he was about the age of his late brother Gordon, who had been a year younger than him.

"So, what brings you here?" Hengist asked, moving closer. "Oh my,

is that your baby?"

"What? Oh no, this is Gwen, my sister." said Godric, looking down fondly at the sleeping child.

"She is cute," smiled Hengist. "But why are you out here all on your own? It's not safe, especially for a wizard with a baby. Why did you draw your wand anyway? I mean, that was a really bold move, it could really - ."

"He is right, you know," the hat said to his head.

"- have sold you out. Don't you know what they do to people like us? Where are you from anyway? Your clothes are very dirty."

"Right again," said the hat.

"You ought to get them cleaned. Are you maybe poor or something? I don't want to be rude, but riders do stop people who dress like you. They say it's more likely they have intel. I have no idea what intel they are talking about, so I usually just stay away from them, I mean -"

"Smart kid, unlike you," commented the hat.

"Oh, will you shut up?" Godric exclaimed with exasperation. He was so tired of the hat's snide comments, they made his head hurt. For a second he wondered maybe it was because the hat was actually positioned on his head.

"I'm so sorry for bothering you, your highness!" Hengist said, crossing his arms.

"No, ehh, sorry. I didn't mean you." Godric tried to explain, quickly removing his hat before it could say anything else.

"You're a weird chap." Hengist eyed him carefully, but then his eyes widened. "By Herpo's foul knickers, what happened to your leg?"

"I - uhm," Godric did not want to go into detail about his birthday feast. He looked around nervously and hugged his sister. "I fell." It was partly the truth.

"Yeah, I'm sure you did," Hengist said with a grin.

The screams down at the village were getting wild and spine-chilling. Godric reckoned if he was a muggle, he would be terrified of the thought of this girl coming back to haunt him. His stomach made a growl, almost as loud as the yells from the village.

"Listen," Godric started. "You wouldn't happen to have some food on you or anything?"

Hengist grinned again. "Nah, but I live just down the hill, there," he pointed at a spot in the opposite direction of the village. "I'm sure you'll be welcome for supper."

Godric's stomach growled again at the thought of food. "Really?" his face lit up. "I am so hungry I could eat a hippogriff."

"We have plenty of food, although I not quite sure what babies eat," Hengist said as they slowly started walking. Godric struggled to walk as fast as he could with both the cane and the baby. All he could think about was the fact that Gwen finally would have something to eat.

" - but no worries, I am sure the Sorcerer knows you are coming." Godric hadn't realized that Hengist had continued talking.

"The Sorcerer?" asked Godric, starting to get suspicious. He wished he still had the hat on his head. The hat would know whenever joining this boy was a bad idea or not. However, it didn't seem like Hengist had noticed his apprehension.

"Yeah, the Sorcerer. It's his hut, I am just the apprentice."


End file.
